Family Names
by Lady Fountainhead
Summary: She was a Hill with Lannister blood. Bastards are lower than serving girls in the Seven Kingdoms. He was to be the next Lord of Winterfell. And she was to be left in the North, desperate for someone to claim her as their own. Robb Stark/OC
1. Hill

Reagan Hill couldn't understand why she, of all people, was being forced to endure the journey to the North with the entire court of King's Landing. It had to be her aunt's twisted form of more torture for the sixteen year old's crime of being born.

Robert Baratheon, ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, had decided it was time to visit his good friend Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, after a sixteen-year span of time. With such a decision made, the whole court was in a tither with preparations when Cersei Lannister, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, had summoned Reagan Hill to her rooms with the intent of demanding her accompanying them as well. No reason was given, just that demand, and later in her Uncle's chambers when the question had been posed to him, a length of silence was all the answer was given. Cersei couldn't stand the site of the bastard child who now rode the grey palfrey outside of the Royal Family's litter, but wouldn't let the girl retire to the safety and privacy of Septa's Houses either.

Reagan huffed, watching her breath become like smoke in the air. She giggled to herself as she compared her breath to a dragon's flame. She briefly wished that indeed she were a dragon. A dragon would never be forced to accompany a court with a Queen who despised her, to yet another location to be whispered and pointed at, to be humiliated because of the circumstances surrounding her birth. A dragon would never be just "the Bastard of the notorious Kingslayer."

They had been riding for, at the very least, a month. She had lost count of the days. They'd all become the same anyway, days of growing cold and avoiding gazes and ignoring gossip and hiding from those who would mock and hurt her. She often took refuge with Tyrion Lannister, her one family member who didn't loathe or treat her like the unwanted stray cats that skulked around the Red Keep. He would read to her from his collection of books and test her knowledge with riddles. He made her laugh after she hadn't smiled for days.

Winterfell couldn't be far now, she sighed, feeling her seat becoming numb.

They arrived at nightfall the next day. And she had never been happier to see a stone keep before in her life. She would never be an accomplished rider. It was another fault of her that set her apart from the Lannisters, who all looked perfectly content to sit upon the large animals who could quite possibly, in Reagan's mind, lead them straight to death or, even worse, crippling. Winterfell wasn't the beautiful High Gardens or the imposing Castlerly Rock. It was… intimidating, that was the word, a lone fortress in the depths of snow and ice. It was also really fucking cold.

The Starks of Winterfell were all there to greet the Court. Eddard Stark was every bit serious and tall as she'd heard from the gossip, but Catelyn Tully, Lady Stark now, was light where Eddard was dark. Her brilliant red hair and bright blue eyes was the contrast to her Lord Husband and her children were the odd mixture of the two. She sincerely doubted she would need to know the Stark offspring names, but dutifully repeated them to herself, as they were each introduced to the King. Robb, Sansa, Aryan, Bran, and Rickon. The one she was interested in wasn't around, though bastards were never displayed before the world so Jon Snow's lacking in appearance wasn't odd.

Prince Joffery, Myrcella, and Tommen were introduced as well, all of the children sizing each other up instantly. The elder Stark girl looked at Joffery with definite interest and Reagan stopped herself from rolling her eyes in disgust. Joffery would be sickenly charming to this poor girl, and she would never know the twisted creature that took exacting lessons from his mother underneath his fair façade. King Baratheon and Lord Stark disappeared after a reproach from Cersei, something about being tired and such. Reagan smirked slightly, knowing the Queen's blood was boiling at being slighted in front of so many. Lyanna Stark was a tale often whispered in the Red Keep's quietest chambers.

Lady Stark began to motion for the party to follow her inside, finally, and out of the cold. She dismounted and handed her reigns to the pageboy who attended her with a smile. Drawing her cloak more closely around her, she walked towards the entrance. Myrcella caught up with her.

"Have you ever been colder, Reagan?" She asked, shivering.

"Just think, Myr, it's summer here. This is summer in the North. Actual Winter has to be devastating."

"I'll be glad when we go home." Her teeth were chattering now.

Reagan gave a small laugh and put on arm around her cousin, "It'll only be a week or so. I'm sure it'll be warmer inside."

She loved her cousin dearly. Joffery took after his mother's attitude and never missed a chance to ridicule and torment her, while Tommen was too young to understand her status and subsequent shame. But Myrcella, beautiful and kind Myrcella, knew and understood yet loved and accepted her anyway. And Reagan could never repay that debt in her own mind.

They entered the Great Hall of Winterfell and Reagan first noticed all the Wolf pelts. Not at all disconcerting, she thought to herself. Cersei reappeared and took Myrcella from her and left Reagan to her own devices, which suited her fine. She walked down one of the halls that led out of the grand room and touched the cold stonewalls. How in the Seven Gods' names did they keep warm in this winter home?

There was a growling noise behind her and she turned startled, coming face to face with a huge wolf. The bright yellow eyes and jagged teeth were enough to make her heart stop in her chest, but it was the immense size of the wolf that made her want to scream aloud. She resisted the urge though, and stood very still, not sure if she should run like a mad man or stay and pray to whoever was listening.

"Nymeria!" A voice rang down the hall and the wolf instantly changed demeanor from fierce to chastised. The wolf sat down on its haunches and looked towards the voice. The brunette Stark appeared and glanced from her wolf to Reagan, "I'm sorry. She's still being trained properly."

"She's a direwolf, isn't she? They haven't been seen this far south in a thousand years." Reagan's voice raised in excitement, she realized late and dropped it to a more lady-like volume, "I'm sorry."

The girl who Reagan remembered was called Arya smiled, "She is a direwolf, the Stark sigil. I'm surprised a Southerner like you recognized it. I'm Arya Stark."

Reagan inclined her head respectfully, "I'm Reagan, my lady."

"You're the Lannister Bastard," it was Arya's voice that was now raised in excitement.

"Arya!" A male's reproachful voice made both girls whirl and face the eldest Stark son who was coming down the hall behind Reagan.

Arya looked at her brother irritated, "Well, she is, isn't she?"

"I apologize for my sister's manners. _She's_ still being trained as well." Robb half-smiled and shrugged. Arya stuck her tongue out at him.

Reagan shrugged back, "she's right though," here she turned back to Arya, "I am Reagan Hill, the Lannister bastard."

Arya grinned, "I told you so, Robb. I told you they would bring her. The letter said -," here Robb reached for his youngest sister and clapped a hand over her mouth.

Reagan cocked her head to the side, "What letter?"

"My sister speaks before she thinks sometimes, it is no concern. Young children, you know?"

Arya scowled and pushed away from Robb, "Fine, but don't say I didn't tell you so. Come on, Nymeria." They two retreated quickly and without a glance backwards. Reagan made as if to follow them, curious about what the young girl knew about her, but Robb stopped her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady."

Reagan raised an eyebrow, "I had no idea the Northern humor included mockery of guests. Save your chivalric charm for an actual lady, Lord Stark." She gave a mock curtsey and swept from the hall, having no idea where she was actually going, but not letting the minor detail impede her exit.

She managed to stumble across her Uncle, who helped her stumble across her room shared with Myrcella. Reagan knew that Cersei had meant for it to appear as a punishment, that for this trip she would appear as Myrcella's handmaiden, but Reagan saw it as a gift, for sharing a room meant safety from unwanted visitors. No one would mock her with an audience in tow. Myrcella was already asleep and Reagan followed suit quickly. Her nightmares came and left quickly. Luckily, her audience stayed sound asleep through both beginning and end.

Robb hadn't meant to offend the chit of a girl. Did she act so irrationally because she was a Southern woman? Northern women certainly didn't cause such problems. He called all women "lady" even the whores he spent nights with. They'd all simpered and cooed and loved every minute of being flattered by Robb Stark. He'd steer clear of the mad Southern females now. That'd be the safest route, he concluded. He went out to the stables where Jon had been hiding for a few hours now. His half-brother was indeed grooming his favorite stallion, quietly talking to him all the while.

"Father wondered where you were," he startled Jon, leaning against the stall door.

Jon looked at his brother impassively, "I didn't care to be underfoot at such a time."

"It'll be interesting tomorrow night. The king is known for drinking and whoring, the two things Father intensely disapproves of. I wonder how they ever stayed friends."

"War changes people, Maester Clymore says." Jon set down the brush and patted the horse one last time before walking past Robb and sat on the windowsill that faced the courtyard.

"Aye, yes, Maester Clymore would know much about war and battle, seeing as he is a Maester and all," Robb rolled his eyes, "I think it is simply because they're the last ones left from the final war."

"The king loved Aunt Lyanna," Jon pointed out, "And there are others, like the Kingslayer. I met him when he was caring for the Gray Palfrey," he gestured with his head towards another stall.

"Speaking of the Kingslayer, I met his daughter," Robb pushed off the doorway and stood closer to Jon, "She has all the looks of a Lannister, but the attitude of Arya."

Jon chuckled, "Arya said she met the girl when Nymeria tried to eat her. She gave her credit at least, said at least she didn't run away screaming, like the silly maids from the Queen's entourage."

"Arya is gloating about the fact that the King did bring Reagan Hill here. Her letter prediction came true. I don't think the girl herself knows however. I stopped Arya before she caused any damage."

Jon stared out the window, "I feel sorry for her. Her father claimed her, but remained in the Kingsguard. At least I was raised in a home. She's getting tossed away like a rag."

"I'd reserve pity. I did say she was like Arya, did I not? I doubt she needs anyone's sympathy. Anyway, Theon and I are going hunting on the morrow. Care to join us? It's better than sitting here continually grooming the same horses over and over."

"I happen to like grooming horses," Jon said half-indignant.

Robb laughed, "Come out with us. It'll help with getting rid of some of your pent up anger. Maybe even make the feast tomorrow easier if you're exhausted from chasing stag all day?"

Jon nodded finally and Robb clapped him on the back, "Well, I'm off. See you before the sun rises, eh?"


	2. Godswood

It never was a good thing when the King himself summoned her. The last time it had happened, she had faced the lash for impudence against Prince Joffery. She hesitantly stepped into the guest chambers that were given to the King during their stay.

"There you are, Reagan! Come in, come in!" The King was not alone.

Lord and Lady Stark sat at the table with him, looking both serious and slightly comforting. At least it meant she wasn't looking at a beating. She sat down glancing at her hands very often.

"Now, look, girl," the King's voice became hard, "I'm having a lot of trouble with you in King's Landing. You're a determined troublemaker and the Court has a hard enough time dealing with everything on top of this. Now, I've asked Lord and Lady Stark to reach an arrangement and they've willingly accepted." At this, Lady Stark nodded not unkindly.

Reagan looked uncertain as to what was about to happen. Cersei had been threatening her for a few years now with the idea of marriage to old men of lesser statuses. She steeled herself inwardly.

She wasn't above begging for mercy in that area.

"An arrangement?" She questioned, her voice hardly a whisper.

Here Lady Stark broke in, kindly, "We wish to house you here at Winterfell. My girls could use a companion from the South. And the Lord King has thought upon our wish and has granted it."

Reagan felt relief at Lady Stark's words. Even though a part of her was fairly certain the woman was lying, she would rather hear that she was being left at Winterfell than forced into a marriage.

The King was obviously waiting for her reaction and she managed to stammer out a thank you and how she was honored, while her mind was whirling. What could staying in Winterfell mean? It had been sixteen years since the King last saw Lord Stark. She might not see her family for that long. Not that she had much of one, but her Uncle and Myrcella…

"Well, that's settled then." The King dismissed her with a wave of her hand and she stepped outside, stunned.

Maybe the lash would've been better.

She heard the voices continue to talk inside the room as she put one foot in front of the other on her way down the steps. She shivered again and wrapped her arms around her.

As she reached the bottom of the stairway, she heard a voice yelling and walked into the room seeing Arya shaking her finger at Nymeria.

It was still disconcerting to see as huge of an animal as Nymeria in the Hall. But Arya was speaking so sternly to the animal, Reagan felt the urge to laugh. The girl in question looked up and smiled at Reagan.

"I'm trying to teach her to sit, while I eat at the table. She gets up and wanders though." Arya sighed, "I tried to sneak out with everyone else to go hunting, but Nymeria gave me away with her barking."

Reagan was shocked that Arya was talking to her in such a casual manner. The only people who did that now were Myrcella and her Uncle. She smiled at the girl.

"I doubt that they will find much of anything, my lady. The only decent hunter among the lot from Kings Landing is the King and he's been out of practice for a while now."

Arya laughed and then stopped suddenly as she heard footfalls down the corridor. She nodded a goodbye towards Reagan and then took off running, with Nymeria closely behind her.

Reagan looked around bemused and saw the Septa of Winterfell enter the hallway with Myrcella and Sansa following close by.

The redheaded daughter of Winterfell seemed the exact opposite of the girl Reagan had just watch run off, though Reagan had spoken naught a word to her. Sansa was watching every movement Myrcella made and praising her often. Myrcella responded like the Princess she was, with the grace and kindness that Reagan loved so much about her.

As they walked into the room, Myrcella saw her and smiled widely, "Reagan, come meet Lady Sansa!"

While Sansa appeared to make no connection, the Septa looked upon Reagan with a disapproving glare. Reagan curtsied low to Sansa and murmured her greetings. Before she had to stand anymore of the Septa's annoyance, she gave excuse and left the hall quickly, leaving Myrcella and Sansa to their lessons.

She wrapped her cloak more closely and shivered again as she exited the hold.

The grey fortress of Winterfell was far less intimidating than the Keep of Kings Landing and much more rustic. Reagan smiled slightly to herself wondering how Cersei was faring in such a place.

Once upon a time, Reagan used to wish that Cersei could be her own mother. The beautiful Queen loved her children dearly and Reagan used to wish for a mother like that every night before she would fall asleep.

But Reagan was a constant reminder that Jaime Lannister had loved another woman. Or had least been to bed with another. Reagan knew nothing of her mother, only that even the slightest mention of her would drive Cersei into a screaming frenzy and Reagan would end up being punished for a created slight. Slowly as she grew, she had learned to keep her questions silent and give up her wishes for her family to treat her as such.

And now the little comfort she took in her uncle and cousin was being stripped from her as well. She couldn't really be upset about it, for getting away from King's Landing had become a dream of hers since her torment had doubled, but still it felt… lonely.

The woods outside of the Keep were silent, wrapped in a light blanket of snow that she knew was not uncommon this far North. Only her footfalls on the ground echoed in her surroundings, and as she had no real idea where she was going, she followed a worn path down past a stream. She stepped into a clearing where stood a towering oak, its leaves sparse and its branches reaching higher than any else in the forest. Reagan breathed out slowly, realizing she had stepped into the Godswood.

She knew many of the Northerners still worshiped the Olde Gods, instead of the Seven and this was where they went to pray. For some reason, it felt full of power to her. Though she'd never had much belief in the Seven, she'd accepted them as the Rulers of the Land. But here, for the first time, the Olde Gods seemed to hold actual sway on the world. The Septons need not interpret their messages as they did for the Seven, for one only had to stand in this place to know the power the Olde Gods seemed to have.

The air felt thicker on her throat and lungs. Eyes seemed to watch her steps as she tread closer to the knotted tree that had heard the desperate prayers of the faithful for thousands of years. Reagan felt an inexplicable pull to the Godswood, one that she had never felt before. She reached out with a tentative hand and placed it upon the trunk of the tree, relishing the feel of the rough bark beneath her fingertips. A wind picked up softly and blew through the wood, whispering through the few leaves a story Reagan could not understand. But even unrecognizable in language, the beauty of it was unquestionable.

"I didn't think any from the South knew of the Olde Gods, my lady."

She whirled about, bringing her hand back to her body and saw the eldest Stark standing several strides away from her at the edge of the clearing.

She inclined her head respectfully and looked at the ground docilely, "I beg pardon, my Lord. I was only curious. I had never seen a Godswood."

She felt uncomfortable standing before him, alone. She realised last night she had been rude and unladylike to the very heir of Winterfell and it was a little more difficult now that she was to be staying here. Her gaze flitted from the ground back up to him and then to Nymeria, who stood at his side, but only, it wasn't.

"Nymeria is smaller than that," she pointed towards the direwolf standing next to him, almost accusingly as if he was playing some sort of trick on her.

He laughed aloud then and she saw his entire face light up, the way her uncle's did when he was truly happy. Lord Stark certainly wasn't unhandsome. His dark auburn hair actually complimented the pale countenance of the Northerners and he stood taller than most men she knew, excepting the Hound.

"No, my lady. This is not Nymeria. This is Grey Wind, my direwolf. He is from the same litter as Nymeria, but he is quite larger."

As if Grey Wind knew they were discussing him, he walked up to Reagan who stood completely still waiting to see what he was doing. The direwolf circled her once and then sniffed the edge of her dress. He made no other noise and when he was finished nuzzled her hand once and then loped purposefully back to Robb.

Reagan watched the creature in awe, "He's quite beautiful."

"Aye, bloody useful, too. He's an excellent hunter and always knows when something goes wrong in the castle. They're all of use, really."

"All?" Reagan gasped incredulously, "How many are there?"

"Six. Grey Wind, Lady, Nymeria, Shaggydog, Summer, and Ghost." Robb walked closer into the clearing and closer to her, but she was too amazed to really notice.

"Direwolves haven't been seen this far past the Wall in almost a thousand years, and yet you have _six _here?"

He laughed again at her bemused expression, "Aye, that we do. We found the litter as small pups, after their mother was killed by a stag."

"There are five Stark children, yes? So you each have one?" She knew her curiosity was less than appropriate but no one was around but Robb and her and she wanted to know.

"Six. Ghost is Jon's direwolf." Robb's smiled didn't fade, but it became more guarded, as if he was waiting for her to disagree with him, to insist that there only were five Stark children. Reagan nodded instead, feeling secretly approval that Robb accepted Jon as his brother, though others may object.

"And you each care for them all?"

He nodded and then looked out of the clearing towards Winterfell, "My lady, we should be returning. I came out here to gain but a moment's peace and now the feast is due to start soon."

Reagan's stomach clenched and she straightened her shoulders, remembering.

Public feast were some of her worst experiences. She wasn't allowed to sit at the head table, but instead sat wherever the host – or Cersei - would place her. Many times she sat among drunk Lords and wandering hands. She nodded to him and murmured her excuses, exiting the Godswood swiftly without waiting for his response or his own departure.


End file.
